She wondered if he felt the same way but it was impossible to tell. Since the savage cutting scene last night, he’d been almost completely silent. But the red splotched bandage that wrapped around his forearm spoke more eloquently than any words could have. Clearly he cared about her, at least a little or he never would have wounded himself for her sake—right?
I don’t know. I just don’t know…
“I wish you’d talk to me!” she burst out, unable to help herself.
“Talk to you?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “What is there to talk about?”
“Your feelings for one thing.” Maggie couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. “First you said you wanted to come with me to Gaia and then you changed your mind. Why?”
He shrugged. “Decided it was better to put some space between me and Yonnie Six and it sounds like Gaia isn’t far enough.”
Maggie put a hand on her hip. “That isn’t the real reason you’re not coming with me—admit it.”
Kor had been standing there beside her, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his eyes on the sky. Now he suddenly rounded on her.
“The real reason? You want to talk about the real reason?” he asked in a low, angry voice.
“Well…yes.” Maggie lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his eyes.
“You know why, Maggie.” He looked at her so intensely it made her feel naked. “I don’t go where I’m not wanted.”
“But you are wanted,” Maggie protested.
“For what? To be your friend? Your bodyguard? That isn’t enough for me and you damn well know it. I want more—are you willing to give it to me?”
“I…” Maggie didn’t know what to say. “Kor, we barely know each other and I’m engaged. We can’t just—”
“That’s what I thought.” He turned away from her and went back to scanning the horizon. “I see a ship coming down—it’s time for me to go.”
“What? Just like that?” Maggie couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “Aren’t you going to wait and say goodbye to me when I leave?”
“Goodbyes are bad luck,” he said shortly. “We never said goodbye on the Blood Circuit—it meant you’d never see the person you bid farewell to again.”
“Oh,” Maggie said softly. “So you think we might…might meet again someday?”
He turned his head and gave her a cool, distant stare. “The odds are about a trillion to one. The universe is a hell of a big place and we’re going in two different directions.”
Maggie bit her lip. “I see. So what do you say instead of goodbye?”
“Good luck. And may the Gods protect you.” Kor nodded at her briefly and turned away. Slowly, he paced down the white carpet, leaving her for good—walking out of her life forever.
“Kor!” Maggie couldn’t help it—his name was torn from her lips.
He paused and for a split second she thought he might come back. But he simply lifted one hand and gave her a brief wave without even turning his head. The next second he had turned off the carpet and lost himself among the ornamental white trees on either side of it. A second after that, he was gone.
Maggie couldn’t help herself—she burst into tears. To think that after all they had been through together he could leave her so easily! How could he be so cruel? So heartless?
And how could she stand to be without him?
She was still crying twenty minutes later when the spacecraft, which had been making a very slow descent, finally landed at the end of the Grand Promenade.
Maggie wiped her streaming eyes on the velvety red sleeve of the outfit she was wearing. It was one of the more modest ones Lady Popenose had packed which meant it at least covered her breasts and crotch. Also, it was stretchy which was good considering the other woman had the anatomy of a toothpick.
She cleaned her glasses on the soft red material too, wishing she had a spare pair. Between being dunked in the pool and all the crying she’d been doing lately, the lenses on her current pair seemed to be permanently smeared. When she put them back on and got a closer look at the ship, though, she frowned.
That doesn’t look like a Kindred ship. In fact, what it looked like was the long black hovercar which had brought her and Kor to the spa in the first place. Had Ratner and Ferna switched ships or were they running late? Maggie began to get a very bad feeling as the door slid open and a skinny, familiar looking man jumped out.
Is that…it can’t be Jonas, can it?
But sure enough, the next person out of the long black ship was a thin, familiar shape. Maggie was standing well back from the end of the carpet but she knew Nola Pope’nose when she saw her. And even if she hadn’t seen her, Maggie would have recognized her shrill, commanding voice anywhere. She ducked quickly behind one of the ornamental white trees that lined the carpet and watched the scene playing out.
“Well? Come on, Jonas—don’t take all day! You know you have to carry me down the Grand Promenade,” Lady Pope’nose snapped at her cringing slave.
“Yes, Mistress!” Jonas knelt in front of her and Lady Popenose clambered awkwardly onto his back and wrapped her skinny arms around his neck.
“Hurry!” she commanded.
Jonas stumbled to his feet and began staggering down the Grand Promenade, clearly struggling even with Lady Pope’nose’s light weight. It made Maggie feel a little better about the fact that he’d had a hard time carrying her back on Yonnie Six. Still, maybe Lady Pope’nose weighed more than she looked.
She’s got to be carrying at least fifty pounds of pure meanness on that skinny stick body, Maggie thought. Then she realized what she was doing—she was just standing there waiting while the woman whose slave she had stolen—the woman she had chained up in her own dungeon—was coming toward her. True, she was hidden behind a tree but not very well hidden—it was time to beat a hasty retreat.
Just then, Lady Pope’nose looked up and somehow saw Maggie—maybe because her velvet red dress stuck out like a sore thumb in all that white. Their eyes locked for a split second and then Lady Pope’nose began to howl.
“That’s her! That’s her, right there! Guards of the spa, come get her! Jonas, hurry up!” And she began to flog the poor slave with some sort of a whip or flogger Maggie hadn’t seen earlier. She had the confused impression that Lady Pope’nose might have pulled it out of her elaborate hairdo but she didn’t know for sure—nor did she want to wait around to find out.
“Hurry up!” Lady Pope’nose insisted, beating her poor, laboring slave even harder. “She’s going to get away!”
At her urging, Jonas broke into a staggering run—a ridiculous sight with Lady Pope’nose still clinging to his back riding piggyback style and whipping his skinny buttocks with her short tasseled flogger.
Maggie only had a second to watch, however, because her numb brain had finally unfrozen and was instructing her legs to turn and run. Whirling around, she kicked off the impractical high heels that went with the red outfit and began to sprint as fast as she could through the slender white trees.
As she ran, Maggie couldn’t help looking over her shoulder. It occurred to her that if the other woman would only dismount, she might catch Maggie with no problem. After all, she was considerably thinner and she had much longer legs. But apparently it was beneath Lady Pope’nose’s dignity to set foot on the white carpet herself. She just kept flogging poor Jonas and screeching in his ear like some demented jockey in a race for sickly horses.
She won’t get down—I’m going to make it, Maggie thought. I’ll find Kor and explain what’s happened. Surely he won’t be gone yet—he was looking for the perfect ship to steal—one that wouldn’t be missed for a long time. He’ll take me someplace safe and we can try to contact Ferna and Ratner again from there.
Just the thought of seeing him again—of spending even a little more time together—lifted Maggie's spirits. She felt lighter than air as she sped through the white trees, casting the occasional glance behind her. Everything was going to be all ri
ght. Everything—
Her thoughts were cut off abruptly when she ran headfirst into something big and extremely solid.
“Ooof!” she gasped and fell backwards onto her butt. The impact was so sudden and hard all the breath was knocked out of her. Even worse, her glasses went flying off her face and landed somewhere in the grass.
What the hell? Maggie thought, dazed and dizzy from her collision. Did I run into a tree? And where are my glasses?
“Excuse me, Mistress.” The deep, grating voice from above her made Maggie look up. Without her glasses she could only see a blur—but a large, imposing blur. Oh dear—that was no tree she had run into.
“What…who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“My name is Captain Beblax, head of security here at the spa. I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me,” the blur informed her.
Maggie’s heart sank. Was this it? Was she really going to get caught just when she was almost out of here? It didn’t seem fair or right. She hoped that Ferna and Rater might still show up and help her or maybe that Kor would come crashing through the trees to sweep her away in the nick of time. But the only one who arrived was Lady Pope’nose, still astride the puffing, blowing Jonas.
“That’s her!” she cried shrilly, obviously speaking to the blurry guard. Finally she slid off the exhausted slave’s back and stalked around to point at Maggie. “The one I told you about when I called. She stole my slave and my identity—not to mention my clothes. Why, that’s my best afternoon dress and she’s stretching it out! She must be punished!”
“I only stole him because she was about to kill him,” Maggie said desperately as Captain Beblax hauled her roughly to her feet. “Look, I can’t see anything without my glasses. Could you at least hand them to me?”
“Oh, you mean these?” To Maggie’s surprise, Lady Pope’nose extended one skinny hand holding her glasses.
“Oh, uh, yes—thank you.” She reached warily for them but Lady Pope’nose jerked them back and dropped them on the ground. There was a sickening crunch and Maggie felt her heart sink.
“Oops!” Lady Pope’nose said sweetly. “What a pity, my dear—I seem to have stepped on your oculars.” Then her voice turned hard. “Bring her to the security office. We have much to talk about…and much to do.”
Chapter Nineteen
The Kindred Mother Ship—6 months later
Sees Truth was striding along the winding corridor that led to the guest suites with his head down, a frown on his face. As a dark twin of the Twin Kindred, he had an intense and sometimes bleak personality to match his raven black hair. His eyes, however, were an atypical pale, almost white-gray with a single thin black ring around the iris. The light eye coloring was rare in a dark twin. Then again, nothing about Truth was typical—and hadn’t been from the moment of his birth.
Truth was lost in thought—so deep in contemplation that he nearly ran straight into a male who was coming in the opposite direction. The two males bumped shoulders hard, nearly knocking them both down.
“Oh, sorry, Brother,” the male he’d run into said.
“Apologies,” Truth muttered in reply. Then he happened to look at the other male’s face. “You.” He said the pronoun as though it was curse.
“Yes, me.” The other male frowned. He was about Truth’s height—six foot seven—and had dark blond hair. His eyes, though, were purest black—an unusual combination. He was, in fact, Strays Far, Truth’s twin brother—not that Truth would acknowledge him as such.
“What are you doing here, Far?” he demanded, scowling at the other male. “Have you come to bother Becca again?”
“I came to see Commander Sylvan,” was the stiff reply.
“Give me your hand,” Truth demanded. Without waiting for ascent, he grabbed his twin’s hand and squeezed it hard, looking into the other male’s eyes.
Far returned the look without flinching and refused to squeeze back, even when Truth’s crushing grip had to be hurting him. At last Truth released him with a sneer.
“You did come to see him and not Becca. Why?”
“He is on the Council, as you know. I saw something…something I thought I should tell him.”
“Had another little vision, did you?” Truth raised an eyebrow at him. “Like the time you saw that girl floating in a pool of blood?”
“The same girl who went missing the next day?” Far arched an eyebrow at him. “I stand by that vision—it was at least half true. All my visions are.”
“Too bad fifty percent accuracy is the best you can do,” Truth remarked. “I never have such problems—I can always see when someone is lying.”
“I’d be lying now if I said you weren’t an arrogant bastard,” Far said coldly.
“And I’d be lying if I said I gave a damn what you think, Brother.” Truth shrugged. “I don’t have time for this—I’m going to see Becca.”
“Why don’t you leave her alone?” Far demanded, his normally cool features tensing with anger. “She’s had enough of your wooing, don’t you think?”
“At least I’m honest about what I want,” Truth shot back. “And what I want is Becca.”
“A pity she doesn’t want you, then,” Far remarked coolly. “Everyone knows dark twins are too miserable and angry to live with alone. Without a light twin—without me to lighten you up—it would be like Becca resigning herself to having bitter berries for first meal every day for the rest of her life.”
“I don’t need you in my life—to lighten me up or do anything else,” Truth growled. “Becca doesn’t either. She—”
The door to the suite they were arguing in front of slid open with a soft whoosh.
“She’s not going to choose either of you if you continue to stand here in front of my suite and argue at the top of your lungs,” Sylvan said, frowning at both twins. “And speaking of twins, my own pair are napping right now. If you wake them you’ll have me to answer to.”
“Apologies, Commander Sylvan,” Truth muttered. “I only wanted to see if Becca was here visiting your spouse.”
“And I wanted to talk to you about something else,” Far put in. “Something I think may affect the entire Mother Ship.”
Sylvan sighed. “I am sorry to disappoint you but Becca isn’t available at the moment. And before you ask, Truth, no, I don’t know when she will be. Far,” he said, turning to the light twin. “I have to be to the Med Station in five minutes but if you care to walk and talk, I’ll hear what you have to say.”
“That suits me.” Far turned to walk with Sylvan and Truth watched them leave with a scowl on his face. Finally, he left too, going in the opposite direction.
Inside the suite, a collective sigh of relief came from three separate girls.
“Oh my God!” a very pregnant Kat exclaimed, fanning herself. “Seriously, Worst…Twin Kindred…Ever.”
“They are pretty bad,” Sophie admitted, coming back from checking her twins who had been born a month earlier. Kara and Kaleb were sleeping peacefully in the same crib as always. Though they were fraternal twins, a boy and a girl, they always cried if separated. She and Sylvan found it easiest just to let them stay together.
“It’s not their fault.” Becca Malone, the girl Truth and Far had been arguing over sighed and put down the baby booties she was knitting. The booties were for Kat’s still to be born twins—Becca herself was still untouched. Well, maybe untouched wasn’t quite the right word—not after what had happened after she’d eaten a slice of Kat’s bonding fruit wedding cake and found herself in dire sexual need. But she still didn’t have any worry that she might “board the baby train” as Kat put it, for which she was profoundly glad.
“How is it not their fault?” Kat demanded. “They’re awful.”
“Not always.” Becca pushed a curly lock of reddish brown hair behind her ear. Her father had been pure blooded Irish and her mother was African American which gave her an exotic beauty. She had creamy light brown skin with freckles across t
he bridge of her nose and bewitching clear green eyes. With such unusual and lovely looks she might have been a model or an actress but she wasn’t. To Becca what mattered was inner beauty, which was why she had been about to take her vows as a nun at the Order of the Pierced Hearts convent in Sarasota, Florida.
Before the incident with the bonding fruit cake and Truth and Far, that was.
Now she found herself in a kind of limbo. She didn’t feel ready to take her vows—honestly, she didn’t know if she would ever feel ready. But she still wasn’t sure she could let go of everything she’d worked so hard for and dedicated her life to.
Only one thing was certain—she wasn’t about to start living with two men at once. Becca didn’t stand in condemnation of anyone else and she thought her new friend Kat’s three-way marriage worked remarkably well. But she had been raised in a strict Catholic household and both her parents had been devastated when she announced that she was putting off taking her vows as a nun. Becca wasn’t about to devastate them further by entering into a three-way union.
Not that her unwillingness to be with two men at once was a problem with Truth and Far. They were the only Twin Kindred Becca had ever heard of who had absolutely no interest in being together and sharing a woman. In fact, as far as she knew, the only time they had ever cooperated on anything was when the two of them had found her in the Sacred Grove, half out of her mind with bonding fruit lust. They had worked together then in ways that made her blush to remember but it seemed to be a one time thing. As far as Becca could tell they hated each other and couldn’t stand to be around each other. Which was a problem since both of them seemed to have fallen in love with her.
“They aren’t bad when you talk to them separately,” she said thoughtfully, adding another little stitch to the miniature sock. “There isn’t so much…tension then.”
“Oh?” Kat raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen them except when they were together and arguing. What are they like one-on-one?”